


Young Affection Gapes

by Darkmagyk



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, High School, Post-The Battle of the Labyrinth, Pre-The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson), Prophecy, Romeo and Juliet References, like actual analysis of Romeo and Juliet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24386992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkmagyk/pseuds/Darkmagyk
Summary: Harvey Granville Barker once called Romeo and Juliet “A tragedy of youth, as youth sees it.”Percy Jackson doesn’t know that, he just knows its relatable AF.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Paul Blofis & Percy Jackson
Comments: 15
Kudos: 192





	Young Affection Gapes

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to loosingletters, for agreeing with me that between baby 90s Leo DiCaprio and baby 90s Paul Rudd, Percy would like Leo, because he has a thing for blonds. 
> 
> From the tumblr prompt: could u possibly do some percabeth angst set in between the battle of the labyrinth and the last olympian, where things are kinda complicated between them?
> 
> Also, spoilers for a 425 year old play.

School had been weird the past year. 

Percy wasn’t sure what he’d expected out of high school. Same old same old, really, but Goode had been, well, good. Paul had been right, generally his teachers had been nice and understanding. Everyone was new because it was only a high school, so no one went in with predetermined ideas about Percy Jackson, trouble maker.

It wasn’t like it was perfect, or anything, but he made JV basketball, and Rachel always sat with him at lunch, and covered for him when there was demigod business to do. She’s actually discovered that the Algebra I teacher was a monster, because Percy had terrible luck with math teachers. But when no one tried to convince you you were crazy about the replacement math teacher after you killed the first, it was pretty easy to just go along with it and pass the class. 

His other classes went alright as well. He somehow managed to place into Latin II and was not embarrassing himself. The fish in the tank of his biology room were very personable. It turns out living with an English teacher actually helped you understand English class. Also, _Romeo and Juliet_ , so relatable. 

He had not been _expecting_ that at all. 

He’d groaned with the rest of the class when Mr. Blofis announced the unit. He’d not found Rachel’s request for _Macbeth_ instead at all something he was sympathetic to. She said she liked a good doomed prophecy but Percy took that a little personally.

After a day of background lecture on Elizabethan Theatrical traditions, Percy didn’t feel much better about it. And he said as much to Paul over dinner. 

“It isn’t my favorite of his plays,” Paul admitted, he considered Percy. It was a weird consideration. Percy was never sure what Paul saw in him, exactly. “ _The Tempest_ is probably my favorite. But its standard freshman curriculum.”

After that, under his mother’s watchful eyes, he went about reading some of the sonnets for the next day. It didn’t work very well. 

“All Greek to you?” Paul asked, sympathetically, when he noticed Percy’s head wondering. 

“I can actually read Greek,” Percy said. 

Paul nodded, he was grading papers and Percy wondered if he’d reached anything from Percy, “Have you tried audio books?”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Percy said.

Paul frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Listening, it's just cheating,” Percy wasn’t opposed to cheating, but he was kind of confused why a teacher, even a cool one, was suggesting it. “Someone does all the work for you.”

Paul shook his head, “They really really don’t.” He sighed, “Listening comprehension uses the same memory processes as reading comprehension. And the actual act of decoding the word isn’t supposed to be the work. You’re just working with a disadvantage because of your dyslexia. Most of your classmates aren’t dealing with that. Listening while reading along is actually a pretty common assist for dyslexia,” he added. “I’m sorry none of your teachers ever suggested that before.” 

Percy shrugged. He’d read some books printed in different fonts, and had learned things to decode the letters that got away, but no one had ever suggested audio books. 

“Besides, Shakespeare's language is already a little strange. So it normally helps to read it aloud. We’re going to read all of _Romeo and Juliet_ aloud as a class.” Paul added. 

Now it was Percy’s turn to frown at the very idea. He’d not yet made a total fool of himself at Goode, but reading Shakespeare out loud sounded like it might just set him on that path. 

“Don’t worry,” Paul promised, “we’ll see if we can get you to read ahead, so you aren’t left totally blind by the words.” 

Percy had never read ahead. He didn’t like reading, and was perpetually behind in it. So far in Paul’s class, they had only read short stories, so Percy hadn’t been able to be properly on the second chapter when everyone else was reaching the climax. But reading ahead sounded like an exercise in futility. 

Paul pulled his laptop from where it was sitting, closed on the coffee table in front of him. “Let’s see if we can find you something to help with the sonnets.” 

They did. 

Paul told him to read along, and that if his mind wandered, he should just pause and rewind the recording. 

It didn’t all make sense, but Paul said it didn’t have too, that they’d talk about the language and the imagery tomorrow. They’d re-read them in class, even, and discuss iambic pentameter and symbolism. 

And Percy almost couldn’t believe how much he did understand what was going on. The next day in class he was actually tempted to answer a question about alliteration. Only many years of never ever offering an answer if he could help it stopped him. He kept his hand down. 

Paul stayed late for the drama club and Percy had JV basketball practice, so Percy got a ride home in Paul’s car that evening. 

“How do you think class went today?”

“Good,” He admitted, he wasn’t used to that, “It was kind of weird.” 

“I hope it becomes less weird.” Paul said, “And no more reading tomorrow. We’re writing our sonnets.”

“Reading poetry is a very different skill set than writing it.” Percy pointed out. 

“Yeah, but it isn’t bad to try,” Paul said, “Maybe you can pray to Apollo, first. Or one of the muses.”

“I’ve never met the Muses,” Percy said absently, “I’ve heard them perform though.”

“WHAT?!?”

Percy glanced to the side. They were in Manhattan traffic, so they were at a standstill, but he found Paul’s grip had gone tight on the steering wheel. His knuckles as white as his face. 

He had accepted Percy’s truth, his life with only a little trepidation. He couldn’t see through the mist, not really. But even a non-clear sighted mortal, who wanted to see the truth could eventually comprehend it if it hit him (or at least his step son) in the face a few times. 

“It doesn’t really matter,” Percy tried to change the subject, badly. “I could try Apollo, but his poetry is...unique.” Percy didn’t want to be struck with a plague arrow on the way home, so he didn’t say bad. “Maybe I’ll burn some food.” Percy offered, His mom had set up a little offering bowl in the kitchen for just such occasions. “And Apollo and I are on pretty good terms.”

“You’ve never met the Muses?” Paul said, voice quiet, “But you know Apollo?”

“Um,” Percy hadn’t meant to do this. “A little, I guess. I’ll write a sonnet tomorrow.”

“Good, plan.” Paul said, though he seemed to just be making small talk. “Very good plan. If you made greek mythology allusions in your poem, that would be ok. Authentic, even. Shakespeare references Greek Mythology a lot.”

“Probably because he was a son of Apollo,” Percy said.

‘Of course he was,” Paul sighed. 

They went quiet after that, partly because it is awkward, but also because he remembered Lee Fletcher talking about how he was going to be the best Son of Apollo to make good as a poet since Shakespeare. He’d been in college for it, though given how English Class normally went for demigods, Percy had often wondered how he managed it. When they burned his shroud, Michael and a few of the other Apollo kids had read one of his poems. It had won an award, Will Solace had told him later, when he’d gone to ask Percy if he knew what happened to Nico di Angelo. He was just a kid, but he was the best healer at camp, and he took his job seriously, even including the son of Hades. He’d looked kind of crushed with Percy had said Nico had left again. Then Will started talking about Lee and crying. Eleven seemed too young to lose your older brother to Percy. But when Percy walked Silena to the infirmary with a twisted ankle later that day, Will had been bustling around, focused on his task. 

Percy thought if he could see that kind of thing in Shakespeare, he could learn to respect him, like he respected his brothers. 

Before dinner he burnt some of his taco meat to his dad, but a little more to Apollo. Some for his assignment tomorrow, but mostly in honor of the friend he’d lost. He hoped Apollo appreciated his children.

Then he sat down at Paul’s computer again, armed with a school copy of Romeo in Juliet and a promise from Paul to explain any of the old language or strange references. 

The prologue reminded him a bit of a Greek Chorus. 

He listened to the first back and forth twice. But he got it. Two guys looking for a fight. 

He didn’t have to pause and ask Paul until: “bite your thumb?” He spoke aloud.

“It's a rude gesture,” Paul said. 

Percy had gotten that bit ‘ _which is disgrace to them if they bear it,’_ it said.It couldn’t have been nice. “But it's such a small thing.” 

“It was the Elizabethan Equivalent of flipping someone off.” His mother said. And when both Paul and Percy looked at her, she raised an eyebrow, “That is the most common text taught in American Schools, I have read it.” 

Paul looked sheepish. But Percy couldn’t even feel that sorry.

“People flip each other off in Shakespeare?” Percy asked. Scanning the book again. “Isn’t it supposed to be all fancy.” 

“It's poetic,” His mom said, “but Shakespeare is not above his low brow humor.” 

That sounded like a son of Apollo, actually. 

He started the scene over. 

And when he reached that bit again, _No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir,_ he actually laughed at how silly it was. No I’m not flipping the bird at you, I’m just randomly flipping the bird where you happen to be.

Paul and his mom were looking at him. He felt his cheeks heat up, just a little. 

“Is it not supposed to be funny?” He asked, hesitantly. 

“No,” Paul said, “No, it is supposed to be funny. Sorry, please keep going.” 

He did. 

He kept going back and forth. He listened to the performance and read alone. And then they’d read it again in class.

Paul assigned him the role of the Prince. It was weird. He was an authority figure at camp, by virtue of being the only Poseidon kid and the center of some prophecy he still didn’t know much about, but that had never been part of his life at school.

He had gotten into a few street fights with swords, and it would be nice if someone actually came in and broke up that kind of stuff.

It was fun being that for the dumb kids, even if it was in play form.

Rachel went all in as Juliet’s nurse.

And because he listened to it beforehand, Percy could actually follow what was going on. And when they re-read them in class, he was one of the only ones who laughed at the jokes.

There was one he really liked where Romeo’s friends started to make fun of him by listing women’s clothing. Nyssa and Jake had done just that last Summer, loudly, when Beckendorf had started dating Silena. It had been hilarious.

He had been surprised about Rosaline. He hadn’t realized Romeo had loved someone before Juliet. He’d only known they were young and fell in true love and then died.

And he really loved the masquerade ball. He thought it was romantic, getting together at a big fun party with all the music and dancing.

He’d been to his own great parties. More than just old Italian noble, actual gods at their actual city of Olympus. He’d danced with a girl at that party.

 _I do not approve of your friendship with my daughter_. A goddess who hated his father had told him a little over a year ago. Ancient grudges indeed.

He didn’t expect Romeo and Juliet to get married so soon, but there was something so refreshing about the fact that they were able to just talk about their feelings and tell each other that they were in love. It seemed almost simple, even when they knew their parents wouldn’t approve.

As he listened to the scene, he wondered if he and Annabeth getting married could help Athena and Poseidon. Then he realized what he was thinking and switched over to his Latin homework. He made sure not to think it again when they were reading it in class.

Also, Tybalt was the WORST.

Percy felt for Romeo, he really did. He’d been in so many fights that he’d have sooner avoided. And then Mercutio died and Percy actually had to stop listening for a little while.

Everything fell apart from there.

And it left Percy almost hollow. Romeo’s banishment, Juliet’s wedding, powerful people controlling their lives, using them as weapons and pawns both, with no regard for them as kids.

If Percy hadn’t known it was written by a demigod already, he’d have guessed from that alone.

And then they died. Teenagers in a crypt, dagger and poison. Percy wondered if Shakespeare thought they’d gone to Elysium. He thought they deserved to. They’d been so much, and if their parents had just cared a little bit more, they could have been spared so much pain.

The play, at least, agreed with him on that.

He read the Prince’s final lines, about lost heirs about lost kin. “ _A glooming peace this morning with it bring._ ”

He’d known they died at the end. He might be dumb, but he wasn’t so stupid has to never have heard anyone mention Romeo and Juliet ever. But he hadn’t known it was like this. So so close to being a tragedy averted. 

And even the third time he went over it in class, it still struck him. 

“What did you think?” Mr. Blofis asked the class. 

And for the first time in a long time, especially in English, Percy had an answer. 

“It seemed very greek.” He didn’t raise his hand, but no one else had either. 

Mr. Blofis smiled at him, “What do you mean?” It was always weird hearing his step-father’s teacher voice, but this time Percy actually wanted to explain.

“Romeo killed himself when he thought Juliet was dead, even though she wasn't.” Percy said, “It reminded me of the myth of Theseus, and the old King of Athens. He mistakenly killed himself, because he thought Theseus was dead.” 

Theseus made Percy think of the Labyrinth and Daedalus and Annabeth. A kiss before what might have been his own death. And a prophecy: _lose a love to worse than death_. It hadn’t all ended in ironic tragedy for him. Yet. But he was fast approaching that other prophecy. 

Once Annabeth had promised they’d always fight beside each other. But what sort of cruel ironies might prevent that. He’d been stabbed before, and poisoned too. When might he find himself like Romeo or Juliet. And would Annabeth be with him. He’d never want for her to follow him, and surely she wouldn’t, but the thought of going on without her, if something happened the other way, was horrible. 

“That’s a very clever observation, Percy,” Mr. Blofis said. He moved on to talk about the nature of tragedy, but Rachel gave Percy a sad look. 

She did that a lot. He wasn’t sure how much was pity and how much was understanding. 

Then she went on to talk about how she liked the twists and ironies. “It was foretold,” She pointed out, “the very beginning told us that they were going to die.”

“Very good,” Mr. Blofis agreed, “I assume most of you knew it would end with them dying, it's such a well known story. But Shakespeare’s audience knew too. That actually goes back to Percy’s observation, about earlier Greek Tragedies. Today we talk a lot about twists, and spoilers, but a lot of older worlds didn’t worry about that. Knowing the Tragedy was part of the story. The goal was the build up and then the release. Revisiting old feelings and old emotions. You know it is coming so it doesn’t have to be shocking, it allows you to anticipate your emotions, so when they come to pass, you can really feel them and let them go. It is called catharsis.” 

The word, catharsis, stuck with him. It reminded him of a greek word he knew: _katharsis,_ purification. 

“So, what are your plans for the weekend?” His mother asked at dinner. 

He looked down at his plate before he answered, because it might have been the lamest thing he’d ever admitted too, “I was thinking of listening to _Romeo and Juliet_ again,” he said, “Straight through.” 

No one laughed, but that wasn’t surprising, why would his mom or Paul laugh at him, even if he was being weird. 

“I have a better idea,” Paul said, and he was grinning when Percy looked up at him, “let's watch the movie.”

“There's a movie?” Percy asked, incredulous. After all that time he’d spent _reading_. 

“I want to help you,” Paul said, “not help you cheat. Also, the movies in the original language. You’ll know what’s going on. It will be better.”

He was right. It was set in the 90s, or olden times, but not ye olden times. And there were beaches and pools which was fun. Also there was Leonardo DiCaprio. Who was a really good looking guy, especially when he was younger. 

But Paul was right about what he’d said in class too. Catharsis, letting go, _katharsis_ , purification. 

It was so terribly sad, and it was so easily preventable, and it wasn’t Romeo or Juliet’s faults. They just wanted to be young and in love. Percy could relate. 

Percy could relate to all of it. He wanted to be young and in love. He wanted to wrest what little control he had over his life away from other people. 

And it was nice to know what was going to happen, before it did. It was a tragedy, pain and heartbreak were coming, but knowing helped you prepare. 

And it wasn’t all for not: Romeo, Juliet, Mercutio, Paris, even Tybalt had died. But Capulet and Montague weren’t fighting anymore. 

And he liked the last line _For never was a story of more woe, Than this of Juliet and her Romeo_. It was sweet, in an old fashioned play, that _he_ was her’s, even though the whole death thing happened because her father was going to marry her off. 

His tragedy might be coming. He didn’t want it too, but his prologue, the prophecy, had been written seventy years before. 

And he could hope, maybe, maybe, maybe, before it came to pass, he could get some true love too. 

He and Annabeth had a standing Iris Message ‘date’ the last Sunday of every month. To trade information between coasts, and also just to catch up, if they hadn’t talked in the intervening time. He wished they talked more. When they’d made the plan, he’d figured they would. But now, he was glad they’d agreed to at least every month, and he kind of wished he’d suggested twice a month. 

She was frowning when she appeared in the rainbow. Her eyes were not focused on him at all. 

“Hey,” she said. 

“Hi,” He smiled. It was good to see her. It was always good to see her. “How are you?”

She sighed, “Fine. I hate English, and Latin is trying to kill me.” 

For a second, Percy was going to offer to help her with Latin, it was his best subject. But then he remembered who he was and who he was talking too.

“I’m sorry,” He offered instead, “How’s your family?”

“Matthew and Bobby asked me to teach them sword fighting, and Charlotte said no. And I said fine, because I didn’t care. But they are still arguing with her about it. And now Dad thinks it's a good idea. So everyone is fighting and it isn’t my fault.” She shrugged and Percy laughed. “What’s up with you?”

He shrugged back, “Basketball season is almost over.” He spent a lot of time with Rachel, but knew better than to say as much now, “And we just read _Romeo and Juliet_ in English Class.” He smiled, thinking about it: about tragedy and catharsis and also about swearing your love by the moon and the sun before fate catches up to you. He’s not sure he’s ever really felt _seen_ by anything they’ve read in class before.

He was going to write an essay next week, comparing _Romeo and Juliet_ to Greek Myths and Tragedies. He had never once been excited about an essay, but he was kind of excited about this one. 

“Ugh,” Annabeth said, her pretty face contorting like she’d come across something gross in the woods at camp. “We read that last semester. It was so dumb.” 

Percy didn’t know if he kept the disappointment off his face, but Annabeth was only half looking at him, and she didn't comment, “you don’t like it?”

“They’re such idiots,” Annabeth rolled her eyes, “They run off and get married and they kill themselves, all for love. They ruined everything by being stupid.” 

Percy wanted to say that they weren’t dumb, they were trying to exert some control over their lives. Percy wanted to say that the feud that was so old they don’t even say what started it, ruined everything. Percy wanted to say that sometimes losing your head a little to love seemed preferable, when your fate was sealed either way. 

Percy wanted to say that Annabeth Chase was holding on to a delusional idea that the evil Titan Kronos was the traitor Luke, and he could be saved, all because of love. 

He didn’t say any of that. Instead, he asked her about any stirrings at Mount Othrys or any sightings of known traitors. 

Then he gave her an update about off season combat missions and Camp preparation. 

It was short, to the point, professional. They were soldiers in this war that was coming. 

They were pawns and weapons of fate and the gods. 

And if, when they were done, he went and sat in the living room and watched _Romeo + Juliet_ again, watched Leonardo DiCaprio recite love poetry again, so what? He needed to for school, for his essay next week. 

And besides, it was about catharsis. 

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on [tumblr](http://darkmagyk.tumblr.com/).


End file.
